


A Million Mistakes

by dietredpop



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexual John Laurens, Autistic!elizabeth Schuyler, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, mentally ill!everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-14 20:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19280686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietredpop/pseuds/dietredpop
Summary: College AU in which Laurens drinks too much and Hamilton is an asshole but will eventually make up for it. Laurens/Hamilton is endgame. Jefferson/Madison are together the whole time. The Boys & the Schuyler sisters are platonically endgame. Other relationships may come up as I write.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if the format is messed up! I did this on my phone.

John saw stars. He closed his eyes, and there they were still. He felt his stomach churn. “It’s ... spinning,” he muttered.   
“What?” asked Peggy, turning to face him with squinted eyes.   
“The world.”  
She laughed. “Are you all right, Laurens?”  
Hercules approached them, having heard the tail of the conversation, and slapped John on the back. “He’s- uh oh...”  
He had slapped too hard. John shot forward and retched, mostly bile dripping like slobber from his lips onto the grass in front of them. “Ugh....” He wiped his mouth with his arm. As soon as he vomited, the stars disappeared and the spinning slowed down. That was one good thing about pushing himself too far: His body tended to fight back.   
“Gross,” said Peggy. She was 19 and probably the only student at [College] who abided by the legal drinking age. In her hand was a can of RC Cola, not her favorite, but one of few non-alcoholic options at a college party. She had spent all of last semester chiding John for his drinking habits but had given up since his 21st birthday. At least he was poisoning himself legally now.   
“Is that...” John looked up, his hand in his hair, and pointed at a shortish guy with a ponytail and the beginnings of a goatee. “Is that an angel or someone I matched with on tinder?”  
Peggy looked, less impressed by the stranger than John. “The latter, I think.”  
Hercules squinted and patted John’s shoulder. “Someone got a crush?”  
John groaned. “Maybe... this guy talked to me for hours like every day freshman year but we lost touch. He started dating someone.”  
Peggy sighed. “Poor John.”   
“Poor John?” said a voice behind them. It was Lafayette, carrying a bottle about a third of the way full with Samuel Adams.   
“He’s got a crush on this— wait.” Peggy’s eyes widened. The ponytail guy had come a bit closer and was facing them now, talking insistently to someone. She recognized him instantly once she heard his voice. The facial hair was new, but not the eagerness with which he was interrogating the other student. “Is that Alexander Hamilton?”  
John looked at her, confused. “Um.. yeah?”  
Peggy shook her head in disbelief. “Dude, you do not wanna go there. I can’t believe I didn’t notice before. That’s my sister’s ex, the one that cheated on her!”  
John turned away, sizing Alexander up from a distance. Could he really be that kind of guy? He seemed so genuine in their correspondence, never leaving a detail out of his stories, even when John secretly wished he would talk less. Hercules and Lafayette were exchanging a knowing glance.   
“What?”  
“Forgive me,” said Lafayette, “but you don’t exactly have the best taste in men, mon amie.” Hercules nodded and grabbed Lafayette’s beer, emptying the rest of it in one swallow. He burped. Lafayette shoved him, to no avail. Hercules was a bit of a brick wall.   
John looked at Peggy. “Are you sure?” She nodded, her eyes wide. “Then I guess I better stay away from him....” He glanced back at Alexander, angry with his heart for seeming to quicken at the way the ponytailed man gesticulated and licked his lips after a sip of something from a red solo cup. If Alexander was around for good, it was going to be difficult to hide from him, or to want to for that matter. Part of him still didn’t believe Peggy, but he knew she wouldn’t lie. And he had heard the stories. He had seen her sister Elizabeth’s tears. He had seen Peggy’s too, tears and panic attacks about how much she had trusted the man who ultimately betrayed her family. He told himself he knew better than to go after someone like that... but the temptation remained. “Ugh, guys, let’s get out of here. Peggy...?”  
She nodded and rose to her feet, reaching a hand out to help him up. They followed Hercules and Lafayette toward the dorm, John leaning on Peggy until they arrived at her Hercules and Lafayette’s room. The floor of their living space was already covered in blankets from last night’s sleepover. Peggy slipped off her skirt and walked to the bathroom in her leggings and tank top. Before she left the room, she turned back. John was already under the covers, fully clothed.   
“John.”  
“Mmph.”  
“You know what I’m going to say.”  
He hesitated a bit, then nodded and sat up. Peggy smiled and left the room. John pulled off his shirt and tugged up on the black fabric binding his chest. There were red indentations where the sleeves and band had been when he took it off. He must have worn it for too long again. He coughed and put his shirt back on, sliding under the covers and falling asleep almost instantly, dreaming of Alexander’s fingers in his hair, on his chin, trailing down to caress every inch of him. In his dreams John never wore a binder. In his dreams he didn’t have to. 

—

“Okay I have to tell you something, but you can’t tell Eliza. Not yet,” said Peggy, her legs swinging from the countertop. “Get this.”  
Angelica looked up from her laptop. “Get what?”  
“You know John— my friend who I’m always bringing over drunk at midnight ‘cause he hates his roommate?”  
Angelica nodded. “How could I forget?”  
“Well last night I was at a party with him—“  
“A party? How scandalous,” Angelica laughed.   
Peggy kicked in her direction, but her feet didn’t reach. “Anyway, I was at a party with him last night, and he pointed out this guy he had matched on tinder with and talked to a long time ago.”  
“Yeah?” Angelica’s attention returned to her laptop.   
“Guess who it was.”  
“Who?” She asked absently.   
“Angelica. This is serious.”  
She looked at her sister, whose legs had stopped kicking and who was now leaning forward, her hands gripping the side of the counter. Peggy did look serious.   
“Who, then?”  
“Alexander Hamilton.” There was silence as Angelica felt heat rise in her face. She looked back at the laptop and typed something nonsensical. “Angelica?”  
She turned back toward Peggy, willing the flush in her cheeks to settle. “I see.” Her voice was hard.   
“This is a problem.”  
“I know.”   
“What should we do?”  
“I don’t ... Nothing. We don’t know what he’s doing here or if he’s here to stay. Eliza ... doesn’t need to know.” Angelica felt sternly protective over her sister, but the fact was she was probably just as affected by the mention of that name as Eliza would be. But Angelica was strong, and she would be strong for her sister, and for herself, she realized a bit guiltily. Half of the nonchalance she was so desperately trying to express was for her own sake — so Peggy wouldn’t see how hurt she was. Peggy never knew the full story. Nobody did. But Alexander hadn’t just been important to Eliza. He had been Angelica’s best friend, and at times she felt more for him than that too. But breaking her sister’s heart was a betrayal no one came back from.   
“Okay,” said Peggy. “Are you... okay?”  
“Of course,” Angelica replied, forcing herself back to reality and her homework. “Worried about Eliza.”  
Peggy nodded. “Me too. I hope he goes away, that... that jerk.”  
“Language,” Angelica teased. 

—

“This is bullshit,” grumbled John, sliding in beside Angelica in African American Lit, a generous few minutes remaining before the class was to begin.   
“What’s bullshit? And since when are you here early?” Angelica’s notebook was already marked with the date, and Their Eyes Were Watching God lay to its left.   
“What’s bullshit is my goddamn roommate’s goddamn boyfriend waking me up at some ungodly hour—“  
“Like the time you need to wake up to be ready for class on time?” Angelica laughed.   
“It’s not funny,” John snapped. “...waking me up at some ungodly hour with his stupid outdated music.”  
“Grandmaster Flash again?”  
John nodded.   
“I thought you liked early rap.”  
“I used to. Thomas Jefferson ruined it for me.”  
“Wait. Your roommate’s dating Thomas Jefferson?” Angelica sucked air through her teeth. “Now I understand.”  
“You know him?”  
“Everyone does. At least, everyone who pays attention. He writes op eds in the school newspaper all the time. He’s right some of the time, but the last one was so Eurocentric it made me gag. He must hate himself more than you do, John.”  
John paused in the middle of taking out his book and gasped fake-offendedly. “I don’t hate myself! I simply prefer to fill my body with poison on a daily basis than face my own shortcomings.” He laughed hollowly. “Anyway, I’m glad I’m not the only one whose life has been negatively impacted by Thomas Jefferson. We should start a support group.”  
“Ha ha. I said he was right sometimes. But anyway, your roommate is all right, isn’t he? Why’s he dating someone like Jefferson?”  
“Oh, Madison’s all right, if you like huge nerds with no spine whatsoever who believe ‘immigrant’ is a dirty word,” John spat.   
“I see.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Maybe they’re a better fit than I thought.” Angelica looked intrigued. “Anyway, listen, I have to tell you something.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Peggy told me you have a history with Alexander Hamilton?”  
John looked away, his cheeks flushed. “Not really. I mean, we never met in real life.”  
“John. Listen to me. Stay away from him. That guy is not—“  
Angelica quieted as the door opened and the professor walked in, flicking the lights on. A few steps behind him trailed a short, ponytailed man with a stubbly goatee and a look of excitement on his face.   
“Oh, shit,” said Angelica under her breath. John felt his face flush deeper and wrote the date on his open notebook as slowly as he could.   
“Hi, guys,” said the professor. “Today we have a new transfer student in our class, so let’s introduce ourselves. You start, Alex.”  
John finally looked up and caught Alexander’s sparkling eyes, his own tense with worry. Angelica glared at her desk. Alexander’s mouth opened in shock for a split second before spreading into a grin.   
“Alexander Hamilton,” he said confidently. “My name is Alexander Hamilton.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one’s pretty gay

John looked at the clock every few seconds that class, and his notes were sparse and even more disorganized than usual. When the professor finally closed his book and reminded them of the reading for the next class, John’s bag was already packed. He kept his head down and rushed toward the door, circumventing the spot where Alexander was chatting with the professor, not looking back to see if Angelica was following him. He didn’t breathe until he crossed the threshold into the hallway. But still it was too soon.   
“John Laurens?” said an eager voice. “Angelica?”  
John turned on his heels and looked up. “Um...” Angelica grabbed his arm but didn’t say anything. Her eyes were narrowed in Alexander’s direction.   
“It’s been a while,” said Alexander. Angelica scoffed.   
“Listen,” Alexander started, “Angelica, I know you’re.:. I know I...”  
“Lost for words for once in your life, Hamilton?” she snapped. “Do me a favor and stay away from my friends.”  
Alexander hung his head. “I- I need to explain....”  
“There’s nothing to explain. Come on, John.” She pulled him by the arm and walked away. John looked back and felt a surge of pity in his chest for the ponytailed man. He tried to shake it off. Angelica’s grip on his arm helped a bit. “God, I can’t believe he’s in our class,” she began, and launched into a series of complaints which John hardly heard. He just kept picturing Alexander’s pitiful brown eyes. He had looked so ashamed. Was forgiveness something Angelica, or Eliza for that matter, could even imagine? And why was John feeling so sorry for him that he wondered that? He hated cheaters.   
But when he remembered the late night conversations they had had, all he could think about was that Alexander got him to a point that even Peggy, Hercules, or Lafayette didn’t. Those months had been the best of his life. He had looked forward to Alexander’s texts every minute of the day. The thought of getting that back — combined with what he’d heard from Peggy and Angelica — left him confused and anxious. He needed a drink. Thank god it was Wednesday, the third biggest party night on campus. 

—

Peggy and Angelica had decided it was time to tell their sister the whole truth, so the three of them were holed up in Eliza’s room watching Titanic for the night. Lafayette had too much homework to go out on a weeknight, and Hercules was busy sewing costumes for the theater club. Meaning John was going to the party alone. He pregamed in a bathroom stall, slamming down shot after shot of whiskey, to avoid Madison’s disapproving looks. Normally John was a beer guy, of course, but desperate times called for quick-acting liquor. Plus it was easier to smuggle one 40 oz bottle into the bathroom than a six pack... or two.   
Thoroughly drunk, John returned his backpack carrying the whiskey to his room and headed out. He was dressed in black jeans and a red t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The black binder under his shirt felt restrictive and sweaty but he didn’t dare take it off. His face was flushed the color of his shirt, his neck sweating underneath his ponytail. He wondered if he’d see Alexander. He wondered whether he wanted to or not.   
When he reached the frat house, it was a bit quiet for his taste, the party just getting started. Still, within a few minutes he found someone to dance with — a lanky, pale chemistry major he had met a couple times before who grabbed him roughly by the hips and had to lean down a ways to shove his tongue between john’s lips. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered, his hand in John’s jean pocket. Did he think John was a girl or was he actually into trans guys?   
In any case, “Um, no thank you. I’d rather stay.”  
“What?” The guy pulled away but kept his hand in position, rubbing the side of John’s inner thigh.   
He was drunk enough to say it. “I don’t like sex. I’m asexual.”  
“You mean like you reproduce on your own?” He asked snarkily.   
John sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I just ... Um... I gotta go over there. Bye!” He wrenched himself away and stumbled toward the jungle juice bowl, pouring himself a cup. He could feel the guy’s eyes on him. He threw the drink back and immediately regretted it, the motion and the additional alcohol causing him to stumble backward in dizziness.   
“Woah, there,” came a voice behind him, accompanied by a hand on his back. John groaned and turned around slowly. Behind him were two handsome young men with shoulder-length hair and goatees. He blinked. Oh. It was just one. And even as drunk as he was, even without the ponytail, even in the darkness of the dance floor, he knew it was Alexander Hamilton.   
“Th-thank you. For catching me.”  
Alexander grinned. “John, I’ll always catch you.”  
“Um, real romantic, dude, but you haven’t spoken to me in months.”  
“Right,” said Alexander, as if he had forgotten about it. “That. You know, I got a girlfriend, and—“  
“Yeah, Elizabeth Schuyler. And then you cheated on her. Did you know she’s my friend?”  
Alexander’s face contorted uncomfortably. “I’ve done a lot of things I regret, John. Ghosting you is one of them. But I have reasons—“  
“I don’t — Alexander.” He felt sober all of a sudden.   
“Yes?”  
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I only want an explanation for one thing.”  
“Anything.”  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Oh.” He looked down. “That’s— well.... if I’m being honest...”  
“Please.”  
“I was tracking someone down. Two people actually. A professor and a student. The student’s a TA, you might know him. Aaron Burr?”  
“What?! Aaron Burr? You know he’s a total douchebag, right?”  
Alexander laughed. “I do now.”  
“Anyway, the professor?”  
“History department. George Washington. I’ve wanted to study under him for as long as I can remember.”  
That explained it. Dr. Washington was the pride of [College]. He attracted more students than anything else the school had to offer. “So... did you know I was here? Did you know Eliza was here?”  
Alexander looked guilty. “I mean... I didn’t not know.”  
“Alexander!”  
“Look, I just wanted a fresh start with you both. And a chance to explain myself.”  
“Well I don’t think Eliza wants to hear it. And Angelica definitely doesn’t. Do me a favor and just... keep your distance for a while, okay?”  
Alexander stepped forward. “And what about you?”  
“Alexander...”  
He reached a hand out and took John’s. “John, I’m so sorry. The truth is, I had feelings for you, and I didn’t want to face them. I was so confused.”  
John sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a wave of alcohol-induced nausea again. When he opened them Alexander was looking at him with such pleading in his eyes that John was the one who stepped forward this time. “I understand.” He took his other hand. Alexander smiled just slightly. And that was it. John leaned forward and pressed his lips against Alexander’s, unlocking their fingers to run his through Alexander’s loose waves. He kissed him gently, then harder, pressing their bodies together as if he needed Alexander’s warmth to survive. But when john’s tongue flicked out against Alexander’s lips, Alexander pulled away.   
“You’re drunk,” he said.   
“No I’m not.”  
“Yes, you are.”  
“Fine.” John pouted. Alexander smiled sweetly and locked arms with him.   
“Come on. Let’s get you back to your room.”  
“I don’t wanna go there,” he whined.   
“Come to mine then. I have a single. But no more kissing. I know how you feel about this stuff. I don’t want you doing anything you might regret.”  
John nodded reluctantly.   
When they reached Alexander’s dorm, he insisted that John take off his binder and turned around to let him do so. “It’s cool that you finally got a gc2b,” he said absently, after John had tossed it on the floor. Other than that, John slept in his clothes, but Alexander changed into flannel pajama pants and wore no shirt. He was the example of masculinity that John strove to be. He lay on the floor with an extra comforter and let John sleep in his bed. John’s thoughts were racing drunkenly as Alexander turned the light off.   
“Good night.”  
“Good night.”  
It wasn’t just good. It was the best night John had had in months.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see Eliza!! But she’s suffering :( but we also get to see Washington and burr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: while I am an aspiring special ed teacher and have experience working with autistic children and teenagers across the spectrum, I myself am not autistic. I am, however, mentally ill, which every character in this fic is too, and some of Eliza’s behaviors in this chapter are related to mental illness, not autism. That being said, if you think I misrepresented anything PLEASE let me know.

“But I— I burned his letters.” Eliza rocked back and forth, her arms around her middle. “I thought he was gone. I burned his letters. I deleted his texts. I burned—“  
“Eliza.” Angelica placed her hand on her sister’s shoulder. Eliza kept rocking.   
“I’m so sorry, Betsey,” said Peggy, tears in her eyes, breaking out the childhood nickname in an effort to bring some comfort to the situation. “He said he wanted to meet Burr. And study under Dr. Washington.”  
“But I burned his letters. I deleted his texts. I burned his letters. I deleted his texts.”  
“Shhh...” Angelica whispered, stroking Eliza’s hair. It had been a long time since she had panicked like this. She was even taking a few classes with them at [College], hanging out on occasion with John and Hercules and Lafayette and enjoying it. Of course, she would never be the type to try and grab the spotlight, but when Angelica thought about her sister’s growth, she became the third and final woman in the room to tear up. Especially when she thought about the damage Alexander Hamilton had now done to that progress.   
“I deleted his texts. I burned his letters.”  
“Sweetie, don’t try burning anything again, okay?” said Peggy softly. “Just in case you were thinking about it?”  
Eliza nodded, and when she started she couldn’t stop. She nodded and nodded and nodded. “No fire, Betsey.” Her voice dropped an octave. It was their father’s.   
“Eliza,” said Angelica, “how about we do one of those breathing exercises? Breathe in seven, hold four, breathe out eight. ‘Til your lungs are empty. Okay?”  
Eliza nodded deeper. “Breathe in Alexander Hamilton. Hold him. Breathe him out. ‘Til I’m empty.”

—

Dr. George Washington sat at his desk at 2:14, cutting into a microwaved pot roast and listening to NPR on his computer. He had had a busy day already but was looking forward to an appointment with a student at 2:30, so he had to eat quickly and enjoy his sparse bit of free time while he could.   
The calm voices on the radio were discussing immigration laws — yet another family had died trying to cross the border illegally in an attempt to avoid separation in concentration camps — when he heard a knock on his door. It was 2:23, and he was only a third of the way through his pot roast. Oh well. Better early than late. He picked his teeth. “Come in.”  
The student that turned the knob and entered his office was not the one he was expecting— not a reasonably equal substitute either. The boy appeared afraid of Washington, his hands wringing a bit in front of him, his shoulders clenched together.   
“Dr. Washington—“ the student began.   
“Who are you?”  
“Aaron Burr, sir. Is this a good time?”  
“I have just a few minutes. Sit down, Aaron.”  
“Sir, I was hoping to get permission to take your Revolutionary War Tactics class next semester....”  
“And?”  
“I don’t have the prerequisite, but I’ve studied the Revolutionary War since childhood. I think I could be an asset in the classroom.”  
“Aaron, you—“  
Another knock came at the door.   
“Come in.” Alexander opened the door and sat down without being asked. “Alexander, have you met Aaron?”  
“Yes, sir,” said the two students at the same time.   
“Anyway,” said Burr, “as I was saying, I’ve been told I’m a great discussion leader, and this is my area of expertise, if I do say so—“  
“Aaron.”  
“Yes?”  
“I have a meeting with Mr. Hamilton. We’ll discuss this later.”  
Aaron turned red and left with his head down.   
“Now then,” said Dr. Washington. “Alexander.”  
“Have I done something wrong, sir?”  
“On the contrary. I called you here because your last essay was excellent. I wanted to tell you about a class of mine, Revolutionary War Tactics.”  
“Yes, I’ve heard about it. Isn’t it seniors-only?”  
“Yes, typically, and you don’t have the prerequisites. But I’m prepared to let you in next semester, if you keep up your work to this level.”  
Alexander grinned. “Sir, I’m honored. I would love to take the class.” Anything to get ahead, he mused. And it was his favorite subject, aside from English comp. and political science. He was a well-rounded student.   
“Good. Just keep it up in your current classes, and you’ll be five steps ahead by next semester. Can you handle it?”  
Alexander nodded. “Yes, sir. I am not throwing away my shot.”

—

Peggy was on the counter again, kicking her legs, while John sat on the floor, guilt resting like too much Taco Bell in his gut as she described Eliza’s reaction to learning Alexander was transferring to [College.]   
“You should come over, John. She always likes seeing you. You’re not all overbearing like Hercules and Lafayette.”  
“Yeah, maybe,” he said distractedly, chin in his hands, trying not to think about Alexander’s lips or the beer in the apartment fridge.   
“John? You okay?”  
Shit, now Peggy was worried about him. That was the opposite of what he wanted. He turned to her and smiled, so wide his eyes squinted. “Of course. Just worried about Eliza.”  
Peggy narrowed her eyes. “You sound like Angelica.... and you’re both terrible liars.”  
John sighed. “I am worried about her,” he said earnestly, and he meant it. Each time his mind flashed to his hand in Alexander’s hair, the smell of Alexander’s pillow, the feeling of their bodies flush against one another, there was a flicker of desire, then the guilt bomb dropped again and he felt like going back home, grabbing one of his father’s guns, and ending it all then and there.  
“But... there’s something else.”  
John blew away a strand of hair that had fallen in his face, but it fell back in the exact same place. “I don’t... wanna talk about it, Peggy, I’m sorry.”  
“O-okay. I won’t pry. Do you want me to leave?”  
John nodded. He couldn’t look her in the eye.   
“All right,” she said, with concern in her voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class.”  
He nodded again and listened as the door closed behind her, then leaned backward and lay on his back on the kitchen floor, groaning. He felt something buzz in his back pocket. “Oh, Peggy....”  
He turned over and took it out, bringing it to his face with his elbows supporting him. He groaned again. It wasn’t Peggy. 

Alexander: hey 👋


End file.
